Little Red Riding Potter
by The Evil Vampire Teddy Bear
Summary: a wild fairy tale crossover - male hobbit strippers, harry in boxers, malfoy driving a pink mini.. you get the picture!
1. Default Chapter

Little Red Riding Potter

This is just me being mad. I wrote it on a sticky, wet, rainy afternoon so what do you expect? I got bored and so started tapping away, and before you know it… here it is! Read on if you're looking for some absurdly weird crap, go back if you're looking for something sensible to compliment your intellect! You have been warned!

Oh… the usual disclaimer: only the insanity used can I call my own… none of the characters, fairy tale plots, M&M's etc etc are mine… (or put it this way: if they were… well, let's just say you as a parent would keep your kids well away from fairy tales!) I'm just taking my turn messing around with them. Oh… I would also like to just state here that Malfoy seems to speak in a sort of Bronx-ish accent… I don't know why… just turned out that way… 

ok… that's enough crap from me… lights, camera, booze and action!

~~

It was 6 am. Nothing disturbed the complete, sweet silence of the early Saturday morning. Little Red Riding Harry Potter was snoring gently in his bed. Then, quite suddenly, a series of ear splitting, high-pitched ringing, which sounded suspiciously like N*Sync's Bye Bye Bye, ripped the tranquility to shreds. "What the!" Harry exclaimed, jumping two feet up above his bed. Quickly, he grabbed the Little Red Riding Phone from his nightstand and jabbed at the receive button, cutting off the horrendous cacophony. A screen appeared, revealing a heavily wrinkled green face. "Master Yoda?" Harry mumbled, slipping on his black-rimmed glasses and blinking several times. 

"Of course, me it is, Harry! Called you I have to tell you that see your old grandma you must today," replied the ancient green Jedi on the other end.

"Oh hell yeah…" 

"well? Off you go then!"

Harry jabbed another button on the pink walkie-talkie and the screen flicked off and disappeared. He bounced off the bed, hitching his Sponge Bob boxers up as he rushed outside, shouting: "To the Little Red Riding Mobile!" 

He got to the little red tricycle and jumped on. The tires led out a chorus of squeals. He started peddling faster and faster. "Weird… it's like I'm not getting any further…." He wondered loudly to himself. Harry looked down. The tires were dead flat. "Oh bum! I knew I should've gotten myself a new means of transport years ago." He got off. "Man… now I'd have to hitch a ride…" 

Just as he was thinking that, a shocking pink Mini shot out from the woods beside his house and screeched to a stop right in front of him. It hit the little tricycle and sent it flying through the candy window of Harry's gingerbread house. The driver's window slid down and a pale blonde head popped out. "Yez need a ride?" 

The guy was about Harry's age. He was sporting designer shades, which covered up half his face, and a black 'Slytherin Sex God' T-shirt. Harry nodded, dumbfound. "Hop on then," the blonde guy said, motioning towards the back seat with his thumb. Harry did as he was told, got in and fastened his seatbelt. as soon as he could pull the door shut after him, they were off again, doing 160 kmph on a road with a speed limit of 50. 

"The name's Malfoy, " the Driver went on, quite conspicuously checking the bespectacled boy in T-shirt and boxers in the backseat out, "and this here's Mini Malfoy." He nodded at the passenger seat. A something, which looked like a living, breathing, scaled down replica of Malfoy, stuck his head and hand out and waved at Harry. "You must be Little Red Riding Harry Potter."

Harry gaped, stunned. "How'd you know my name?" 

"Well… the unruly black hair, the glasses, the scar thingy... can't exactly be one of the backstreet boys can it?" Harry was silent.

"It was in the script, kiddo."

"Oh…"

"So… Where're ya headin'?"

"My Grandma's." Malfoy nodded in acknowledgement and turned on the radio. He cranked up Britney's croaking to club volume and started jiggling around, rapping at the steering wheel and singing along at the same time. 

"Say, could ya pass me some M&M's lil guy?" Malfoy said to his miniature. The Mini Malfoy made some unintelligible grumbling sounds, which sounded very much like curses and passed the bigger one a packet of peanut M&M's. Malfoy snatched it and set it down between his legs, then looked at Harry through the rearview mirror. "Say, can you toss an M&M's and catch it in your mouth?" he said. Harry reluctantly shook his head. "Then watch and be amazed, cos the Malfoy is going to do it while he's pushing 180 an hour!" With that, he took his shades off, picked up a red M&M's and flicked it into the air, turning his open mouth up towards it. 

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a gargantuan fluorescent orange object through the windshield. "MALFOY!!!" he screamed. Malfoy turned to look, just as the chocolate fell into his mouth. He made a choking sound. His eyes popped out from his face and he flopped onto the steering wheel just as the car hit the obstructing orange object with a massive CRASH! Harry lurched forward, but was jerked back by the seatbelt. There was an ululating scream as Mini Malfoy was hurdled straight into the brick wall head first, and was hammered into the wall By the hurtling car with a resonate CRUNCH! Blood and bits of brain flew in through the smashed glass, spraying the white leather seats bright, bloody crimson.

Poor Harry sat gasping for a moment, not quite grasping the extent of the trauma. Then he slowly came to his senses. He undid his seatbelt, and leaned forward towards the driver seat. "Malfoy?" he whispered, his voice shaky and uncertain. No answer. Malfoy was slumped forward, lying quite still, his neck hanging at an odd angle. Harry called him again, poking the body at the same time. "Um… Malfoy… Are you dead?" Then it dawned on him. Malfoy is dead. "Golly! I've never seen a dead man before!" Harry climbed into the front to get a better view of the corpse. "Gee…" For a moment, his fascination far surpassed his shock. He started poking the cold flesh and pulling faces at the dead man. Then he started to realise that what he was doing wasn't quite the way to earn himself a ticket to heaven, he stopped and climbed out of the wrecked car. 

After having surveyed the area, he found that the brick wall was Grandma's house and the orange thing was actually Grandma herself ("Ohmigod… they killed Kenny… I mean Grandma!"). He also found that the door was unlocked, so he went in. 

Behind the door, there was a kitchen - a modern looking one, full of stainless steel and shiny equipment. In the middle of the room, there was a table with three bowls of steaming porridge set out ready - a big bowl, a medium bowl and a small bowl. Harry, being the inquisitive little boy that he is, tried them all and found that they all tasted strongly of soap. (damn. Grandma must have picked up the wrong box again.) 

Seeing that there's nothing else to do in the kitchen except play with kitchen equipment, he slipped into the living room. Up against one wall, there was a monstrous plasma screen TV. "Holy sh…" Harry exclaimed, not quite finishing his interjection, as he remembered that fairy tales are supposed to be family entertainment. He started looking for the remote control, couldn't find it, and since there's no other way he can figure out to turn the TV on, he was forced to find something else to do instead. That's when his eyes turned to the spinning wheel in a dark corner of the room.

He approached it. There was a sign hanging on it reading: _DANGER! Do not touch needle_. Our Harry, never being one to be put off by warning signs and restrictions instinctively dismissed the warning as a load of bull. His eyes were fastened on the gleaming silvery spike, spellbound. "Hmm… this looks like a sharp needle," he muttered to himself, reaching up for the point slowly with the tip of his index finger…

"OW! That fucking hurr……" his voice slurred and he collapsed, unconscious, onto the floor beside the cursed spinning wheel, doomed forever to stay in deathlike slumber until a prince comes to break the spell and awaken him with a kiss…


	2. a match made in heaven?

Little Red Riding Potter Part II

Meanwhile, a group of male hobbit strippers whom Grandma had called up before she left the house arrived and parked on the driveway. "Good God! One hell of a party they must be havin'!" one of them exclaimed, as he sized up the damage. They all got out of the van and paddled up to the front door on their sturdy hairy feet. 

After knocking and ringing the bell several times to no avail, they decided to try the doorknob. It gave quite easily and they all filed in. "So where's everybody?" one asked. Another one pointed to the limp body of a little boy slumped in a corner next to a spinning wheel. There were gasps and 'oohs' and 'aahs' and a whole lot of debating as they rushed over to get a closer view of the thing. 

"Dude… he's not dead is he?"

"No, 'course not, stupid."

"Well, how'd you know?"

"You ever heard a dead man snore that loud?"

"Oh… right."

"Dude… He been hexed by the cursed spinning wheel… cursed to lie forever under deathlike slumber until a prince comes by and kisses 'im"

"Sweet!"

"Dude… that's swell… didn't know you were in to all this magic mumbo jumbo biz."

"I'm not. Just read it off the back of the warning sign here."

"Sweet!"

"Oh…"

"Wait… you can read?"

"Dude… wotcher think we should do with 'im?"

The sound of brains clicking and whirring could be heard in the silence.

"Dude… I think we should get the hell outta here… fast" with that, the speaker turned on his heels and ran, knocking down a basket of knitting equipment as he went. The rest of his friends followed closely. In a flash, they pulled out of the driveway, backing straight into a tree and didn't stop until they hit the highway.

It was getting dark. The sun has already dipped beneath the horizon. Sleeping Harry was still… well… sleeping senseless on the floor of the room as shadows crept over his countenance. Slowly, the cellar door to the other side of the room creaked open and a vampire stepped out (he had been living in the cellar in exchange for keeping the house free of rodents). He was wearing a black cape over an evening suit. His skin was deathly pale and his black hair was slicked back with too much gel. He walked to the middle of the room, then raised both his arms in a theatrical gesture. "I am Vlad Dracula, ze pwince of ze darknezz!" he announced to the night. 

He raised his aquiline nose into the air and sniffed. "Fee Fie Fo Fum! I can smell ze blood of an Eengleesh mann!" he turned from side to side, sniffing the air like a bloodhound. Then he located the source of scent: the appetising fragrance was coming from the little boy lying in the corner of the room. "Ha! Leetel boy! You vill be my suppa!" he let out a fiendish cackle and scuttled over to Harry, both claw-like hands raised above his head, his eyes intent on the sleeper. 

In his haste, he didn't look where he was going. One foot got caught up in the knitting basket one of the vertically challenged halfling strippers had knocked down. He lost his balance, and was propelled through the air towards Harry. He landed smack on top of the sleeping boy, and their mouths touched. In an instant, Harry's eyelids fluttered open. He exclaimed, "Man! Your breath stinks!" 

Their eyes met. Sparks flew. In a flash, they realised that the other man is obviously the soul mate they have been looking for. It was obvious they were meant for each other. Why? Because this is a bloody fairy tale! Divorce is unheard of in fairy tales. So is election, but that's another story. So, anyway, Dracula looked past those thick lenses and realised in an instant that this is the one he had been waiting for all his life… or unlife, the one he wanted to spend the rest of eternity (literally speaking) with. "Oh, my dearest 'arry! I vant to spendt ze rest of my undeaz wiz you!" The vampire exclaimed, grabbing the boy's hands in his own.

"Oh Vlad! I want to share an eternity with you!" Harry replied.

"Oh, Harry. My love!"

"Oh, Vlad! My darling!"

"Oh, Harry!"

"Oh Vlad!"

"Oh, Harry!"

"Oh, Vlad!"

"Oh Harry!"

"Vlad?"

"Yez, Harry?"

"Don't you have anything else to say?"

"Heh? Oh… sorry… Now my dearest… zees von't hurt much…" He sank his fangs into the boy's neck. Harry emitted a little sigh as his lifeblood was drawn away from him.

The moon was full and flaming in the velvety midnight sky. Two bats could be seen flying along side each other, like two black shadows against its brilliance, and if you look close enough, you would notice that one of them was wearing glasses. 

So Little Red Riding Harry Potter and his dark prince flew off to live together happily ever after.

So that's the story, done. And like any good story it has a moral to it. But since this is a very good story, there are a few:

Never leave your house in boxers Never get in a car with stranger – you never know if the driver might be a brainless speeding freak! Always fasten your seatbelts Don't try the M&M's tossing trick whilst you are driving Always lock your door to keep out any half-witted relatives of yours getting in and hexing themselves on your cursed spinning wheel Warning signs are there for a purpose. Read them first Never leave me alone with a computer and no internet connection on a boring rainy afternoon 

That's it kids! Hope you enjoyed the show. Now excuse me while I can still escape with my life!

::disappears::


End file.
